Rubedo
by Loveable Otaku
Summary: Alchemy always dictates that there are three stages. Yet, one opportunity leads directly to another, just as risk leads to more risk, life to more life, death to more death. In a way, she never expected it. OC. Several points of canon divergence.
1. Hide 'n Seek

**Wow. Here's a FMA thing. Can't believe I did this.**

**DISCLAIMER: Fullmetal Alchemist ain't mine. Hiromu Arakawa is the mastermind.**

* * *

**Rubedo**

Chapter 1

_Hide 'n Seek_

* * *

_**Beware of beautiful days. When you get happy, you get careless.**_

* * *

She's good at hiding. She has been for a while. Being found is always a different story.

She's been hiding in the guest room closet for some time now, but she cannot and will not step out. The closet is small yes, but she won't ruin the fun of a two-year-old valiantly scouring the house to find her, though she has been hiding in there for quite some time amongst coats of various colors. Gracia has a lot of pretty coats. It's plenty enough to snuff a person's body from sight and since Elicia hasn't found her yet—

"Find you!" The sudden light shows a little girl standing in front of her proudly. She can see the little girl's smile grow until her cheeks are no more, smothered in the dark apparently not affecting her sight.

Maya returns the smile not a second later. "It's 'found you', Elicia." She corrects the girl's grammar. Maya steps out of Gracia's closet and presses her right palm on the door to close it. Once she hears the gentle click, she faces the small seek with eyes softer than a feather pillow. Elicia's afternoon dress has the shape of a big pink bow sticking to her, the sleeves the loopy bows and the tails the lower end.

Twinkling green eyes look at her. "It's my turn to hide now, Big Sis!"

"We've been playing for the past thirty minutes," Maya says. She pats Elicia on the head and, if miracles were as concrete as matter, she could stuff her energy back into her system from that one pat. On the contrary, that may rile her up again and beg for the game to continue.

"How about a tea party?" The young redhead suggests. This a proposition she frequently dishes, a much tamer game compared to the rest. She pats away the wrinkles and dust gathered around her dress from the closet. Her afternoon dress is not as rich and appealing as Elicia's, but it's doable and simple, not much beyond a light sea green flow. Gracia will occasionally sneak fancy dresses in her room from time to time, and the sly lady knows Maya doesn't have the heart to deny them.

Maya and Elicia head to Elicia's room where the tiny white table is in the far right side. Her plushies, toys, and stuffed animals are behind it in slight disarray, but it doesn't ruin the image of a pretty white tea party.

Maya takes her usual seat at the far end of the table.

"Yay! Tea party!" Elicia cheers. She takes attendance of each stuffie and plushie and decides which will sit where. It's pretty amusing to watch her go about her ways per usual, but today, she's a little more vigilant than previous times.

Before they can continue, Gracia walks into the room and tells them she's going shopping and asks if they want to accompany her. Maya accepts and Elicia cheers. Maya has an inkling the excessive shopping is for Elicia's birthday party a couple weeks away, but Gracia denies it wholeheartedly and slips on Elicia's sweater.

Ms. Gracia is unsure of what to cook for tonight's dinner, but she figures if she sees most of the markets and their specialties for today, she'll produce an idea.

"What would you like for tonight's dinner, Maya?" She goes on to ask, grabbing her purse. She has on a creamy cardigan and a lavender dress, ready for the day like always.

Maya ponders over it. Like Maes commonly says, Gracia's cooking is amazing. She doesn't really mull it over since whatever Gracia dishes out for dinner is fine with her.

So, Gracia dolls up the two girls for a trip to the market, with a little resistance from Maya. The teen zips her mouth when Gracia gracefully pulls her bun tighter and clips a yellow bow, bigger than the one she was previously going to use.

"Nice, right Maya?"

"Y-Yes, Ms. Gracia."

Outside, the city's summer afternoon sun moves in and out of clouds but lights the entire district regardless. There's a slight bite, but it's a beautiful day, completely normal for midsummer medleys. Her knitted sweater keeps the bite away and she's grateful, for her skin was too attuned to the warmth back in the apartment.

Gracia is able to quickly snag a cab for them. "C'mon, you two." Gracia enters first, then Elicia, then Maya. The driver, a clean man with friendly brown eyes, turns to them. "Hello. Where're you heading?" The man scans them, but abruptly stops at Maya. His eyes drag up and down, from head to toe. He finally stops with a grimace, though he attempts to hide it in the best way he can.

Maya has a neutral face on. She's already seen it in her book all the time, flipped through many of the reactions she'll get all because of some red eyes.

"To the farmers' market right off of Marx street, please," Gracia tells him firmly.

It doesn't relieve the tension, but it pushes the driver to get back on track with his job. He faces the road and drives. But that isn't all from him. She can hear mumbles, indistinct and offended; some snippets of, "…shouldn't be out and about…" and, "lucky" that you aren't full…"

Maya sits back and fiddles with Elicia's pigtails for the [AH9] majority of the ride.

They finally arrive at the busy farmers' market. The area is packed, but it's a common ratio for midday. People are at their preferred paces and mindless chatter sounds the place in a comfortable scene. It actually gives motion to the teen who is slightly tired of playing make-believe.

They stick to the food markets, Gracia also wanting to pick up produce along the way. They stop at an open market where people are scattered amongst rows of fresh food and goods. A little while later, Gracia is holding a brown paper bag full of groceries while Maya holds three more of them, both still clueless of what meal they want for dinner.

By the time they peruse through most of the markets' offers and pick up what's needed, they stop and spot Mr. Becker, the baker, his voice ringing above everyone's head about fresh bread loaves and rolls at appropriate prices. She knows it's his voice, that thick Aerugonian accent that has a melodic slur for most of his words.

Mr. Becker is an olive skin, stout, bush bearded man leaving middle age and leaning elderly. He's proud of everything that he handles with his own hands. The bakery shop he owns, Beckers, is a place people are very fond of. Most people head for quality bread and pastries in Central. Maya thought it to be an exaggeration, but the day she visited and had a taste of his creations, buying groceries without stopping here is a heinous act.

Maya has a sort of a childish glow about herself approaching him, similar to Elicia who's excitingly shouting to her mother for her birthday cake to be made from Mr. Becker's bakery. In an instant, he notices them. His smile erupts into one of great joy. With a big laugh out of his big mouth, he greets them. "Three beautiful ladies at my bakery, what a lucky man I am!"

"Don't let Maes hear you, Stefan." Gracia joins in the merry with a joke.

Mr. Becker laughs again as if it's all he knows how to do. "Y'know Maes has my respects! Gotta admire a family man." He turns his jolly attention to Elicia. "How are you mi ami belissina?"

Elicia giggles and throws her arms up in the air in good cheer. "My birthday is comin'!"

Mr. Becker gives a loud, faux gasp as if he's a stranger to the news. "Really? You should've told me Elicia! Looks like I have a big cake to make!"

"With strawberry frosting!" She adds excitingly.

"Elicia," Gracia says, light in her stern tone.

"It's alright, Gracia. How can I refuse?"

Mr. Becker then readily turns to Maya who's quite flustered despite knowing it's her turn to be greeted. "And Maya, Bellina, Bellina!"

"Hi, Mr. Becker," She greets.

Mr. Becker is of Aerugonian descent though his last name is Amestrian. He'd let everyone know too, greatly unabashed by his accent and family lineage of immigrants. A small piece of the bakery is dedicated for Aerugonian style pastries and desserts and, if people's tongues are in a certain mood, that section of the bakery would be cleaned out near five.

He makes it infinitely clear he's more grounded in his Aerugonian roots than his Amestrian ones.

"Come inside, come inside. I have fresh rolls and bread right out the oven."

With their sugar perfume, the goodies welcome them once they enter. Displayed cakes, cookies, breads and others in three filed lines are protected behind a well polished glass, and of course, the portion on the left side of the shop dedicated to Aerugonian desserts.

Mr. Becker is already in the back gathering the breads. Maya gives a side-glance and watches Elicia pull Gracia to the display case and number the amount of sweets that just has to come home with them.

Maya spends time looking around, not much since she hears, "Un adimo!" from the back. However, she does catch what Mr. Becker chose for a special today. On the counter standing from slant but sturdy legs is the blackboard, it's face marked up by Mr. Becker's lazy Amestrian writing. The special for today is sweet rolls.

There's an itch in Maya's heart, but she makes no moves to scratch it. If done, she'll be afraid of what will leak out.

Mr. Becker finally returns with a bountiful supply of different breads and rolls in a brown paper bag. He was right; the breads did just come out of the oven, good and lively.

"On the house!" he declares.

"Stefan, is this really—"

"_Schecerto_! Anything for the Hughes family! I even put today's special inside."

"Sweet rolls," Maya says in a sudden swift ice she doesn't recognize.

"Yes, sweet rolls!" Mr. Becker faces her. "Would you like me to put more?"

"No, you put more than enough, Mr. Becker. I just read the blackboard and remembered someone who really liked sweet rolls." A different type of smile appears, a rueful curve of her lips. It's a hesitant longing sneaking from within her, and it seeks to be known. "He was such a sucker for them. His brother and I always bribed him with them when we wanted him to do something for us, but it was for pranks' sake. But I always thought it funny that he liked sweet rolls because," her smile turns sad, "that's exactly what he was: sweet."

She didn't mean to scratch it.

Maya closes her mouth tight in realization. Mr. Becker's smile becomes grand.

"We have to pack some for him then!"

"It's okay. It's all in the past."

"C'mon, Bellina! You must treat your friend!"

"He doesn't need them." Her eyes dim and so does the childish glow she has been wearing. She clutches the three brown paper bags full of groceries.

"It's alright, Stefan." Gracia swoops in. She holds her load in her right hand and the other hand lays on Maya's back and makes quiet soothing circles. Maya relaxes. "We can't always spoil our friends."

The baker man quickly agrees. "_Vera_, but it's a joy to do so!"

A ding is heard in the back and Mr. Becker turns around.

"Oh, the muffins are done already?" He drops the bag on the counter behind him and hurries off.

When Mr. Becker scuffles to the back, Gracia eyes Maya, a small frown tucked in her mouth. She pats her back. Her hand just being there helps Maya hang on to the present a little bit more. It was an unconscious overflow, an uncontrollable effect from seeing one thing align with her unwanted memories. Not trivial at all, but really unneeded.

"I did pick apples for a reason." Gracia moves her hand and brandishes the brown paper bag she had in the air as if waving a doll.

And she did, six red bright streaked apples, color more beautiful and lovely than Maya's dark, sullen red hair. Maya thinks for a second until her thoughts catch up. "Apple pie…!" She answers, eyes having nothing but anticipation.

Gracia replies with a knowing smile.

"That she learned from this old man!" Mr. Becker puts in, somehow next to Maya again. His hands are stapled to his round hips and he stands like a perfectly poised proud statue. Maya did remember Gracia mention not so long ago that she had worked at Becker's[AH19] bakery when she was around her age.

"I will admit, Gracia. Your apple pie surpasses the greatest of all bakers." Mr. Becker beams. Gracia, always humble, waves away his claim, but Maya knows that Mr. Becker is being as candid as ever.

"Well, I don't want to keep you ladies too long. Go enjoy your day. Leave this old man to his sweets." He strolls to the sun wiped door and opens it for them. Gracia and Elicia leave first, the little girl slight huffy that they didn't get more desserts. Maya moves to leave, but is stopped by a worried Mr. Becker, mouth settled in a serious line.

"What's wrong, Mr. Becker?" Maya asks. However, she has inklings, bright twinkling stars in her brain that she knows what will come out his mouth.

"Anyone bothering you lately?" He asks softly.

She isn't taken aback by the question. He'd asked her this numerous times and is quite grateful for it.

"Not that much anymore," She returns after several seconds of silence. Aside from the cab driver who just grumbled all the way to the farmers' market, everything else is fine, and Maya decides Mr. Becker isn't missing out on anything if she doesn't mention that tidbit. "I guess people see me with the Hughes and leave me alone. It's actually quite surprising honestly."

To outsiders, it's a surprise a mixed Ishvalan is walking out and about after the civil war ended. It's a surprise how Maes' fellow soldiers haven't discovered yet, though she hangs with Maes more in the apartment compared to outside. As it is, there has been no disruption so far and she'd like to keep it that way.

"Amestris is a nice place, sprendido! But, it is built on prejudice. One person better than the other; not good thinking, not good."

Maya inclines her head in some form of a comforting nod. The strange thing is that she's vaguely distressed by that thought rather than comforted. In Amestris, being better than someone else grants more favor. Being better ranges from occupation to genetics. If your genetics aren't right, then you're not right as a person. That's the part Maya can't stand.

Nevertheless, she hums in soft agreement.

Mr. Becker pats her on the shoulder. "Like I say, Rosso ti cera—"

"—de tempa si spera. I know." Maya finishes.

When the sky is red, good weather is hoped for.

* * *

When they come home, the sun is setting and fanning a calm red above Central City.

While they hunted and gathered groceries for the apartment, Gracia is still lost on what to cook up for dinner.

"Maes is coming home soon. I have to get dinner started," she stresses, floundering and packing supplies in cabinets.

Maya takes to her mind. With the small chat she had with Mr. Becker, her appreciation for the Hughes family grew immensely. And since she heard Mr. Maes' mutterings about a difficult case slowing his division down because of how maniacal the criminal is, she figures that cooking Mr. Maes' favorite food would ease him.

"I should've thought of this earlier, but how bout spinach quiche?" Maya offers.

That strikes a brilliant smile from Gracia and she nods. "Great choice, Maya. Good thing I bought tons of flour." Maya ushers Elicia upstairs to her room to play and soon they get to work.

Maya swipes a grater and begins to grate a block of cheese while Gracia makes the dough. A cozy silence descends, noise and words channeled toward a wonderful dinner. But, Maya lifts away the silence.

"Thank you, Ms. Gracia. You helped me back at the bakery." Maya keeps her eyes downcast, stick to the cheese bowl. "I know Mr. Becker means well, but sometimes…"

"He's a bit overbearing." Gracia finishes.

"Yeah."

Gracia kneads the dough. "Well, he's not aware of what you went through, only of what you're going through. So, if he finds out that you have a friend outside of us, of course he's going to be happy." Dainty fingers sculpt the dough, and Maya can't help but stay quiet and watch.

She continues, "But that's the thing with Mr. Becker. He cherishes the past, and that's the one thing that makes him enjoyable to be around, but,"

She grabs a rolling pin and begins stretching the dough, "I do believe it's better to focus on where you're going and less on where you come from."

Maya hears her words. It nestles in her head so deeply that a two-hour crafted recipe seemed like thirty minutes and she finds herself upstairs to prepare Elicia for dinner. Gracia had set the table in advance: spinach quiche, salad, sweet rolls, potatoes and ice tea. Eating with his family should kill the stress, Maya thinks.

And on the dot, Maes comes home right before dinner.

Maya is in the bathroom preparing Elicia for dinner. Maya has cheese and flour lodged under her fingernails, but it's worth it once Maes sees they cooked his favorite meal.

"All done!" Squeals Elicia when all the scattering soapsuds slides off her hands. Maya turns off the sink, puts her down and grabs a hand towel to wipe the little girl's hands dry. "Clean, clean for spinach quiche, right?" Maya sings and tickles Elicia's hands, the little girl swamped in gleeful giggles.

"Time to eat with Daddy, Big Sister!" Elicia reaches a hand out, a cute little beckon, but Maya sends her away.

"Go with Ms. Gracia. Big Sis has to wash her hands too!" With some extra scrubbing if she wants the flour and cheese to leave her fingernails. And she does just that, adding the strawberry lotion sitting idle in the cupboard. In her love for the red fruit, she smells the lotion a little and is internally grateful Elicia demanded strawberry frosting on her birthday cake.

She leaves the bathroom, gliding into the living room until she comes to a near slamming halt at the door.

"Say hello to our guests, the Elric Brothers!"

Maya's knees almost hit the ground.

Her eyes do not do anything resembling shock. No snapping, no slapping, no jolt. Those things happen when you wake from a bad dream, not when you wake into one. No, her eyes drag themselves wide.

Hughes doting over Elicia being her usual adorable self while Gracia smiled at the scene. That was the norm, the present she gradually latched onto. But she's reminded, now more than ever, that her present is a fragile existence.

Oxygen isn't oxygen anymore, just bits and pieces of floating fear.

The two guests are too busy in their conversation with everyone else. They haven't noticed her—yet, that's the scary word, yet. She has all the terror in the world to further her distance, to run out of sight.

But, she knows she's always been poor at applying 'Out of sight, out of mind.'

Her heart at this point is slippery and hot, and loud, so, so loud[ .

Please, don't look. Please—don't look.

Maes stands at the doorway, waiting. How long is she making them wait? How long can she keep this up?

"Maya! Come greet our guests!"

She can see their outline, small and big. Both freeze[ n the door light that streams above them.

It's all over. Their stares are all over her and as she stands before them, a moment of breathless hesitation comes and passes. But, someone has to give. And it's not her.

Edward Elric croaks, "M…M-Maya…?"

* * *

**Author Note: Yeah...New ideas, long stories, hopeful time. Don't shoot me.**

**Anyway, I constructed a language for Aerugo which is obviously based on the Italian language. I was always interested in the countries outside of Amestris in FMA.**

**_Mi ami bellisina – _my pretty friend**

_**Bellina**_** \- beauty/beautiful**

_**Un adimo**_** \- one minute/ just a moment**

_**Schecerto-**_** A word that is used to tell people not to worry about it. It's used in many different situations when an Aerugonian wants to tell someone to not make a mountain out of a molehill**

**_Vera -_ A word used to admit when someone's right or telling the truth**

_**Sprendido -**_** Splendid**

_**Rosso ti cera de tempa si spera -**_** When the sky is red, good weather is hoped for**

**I've decided for this story, certain scenes will be accompanied by music! Yes, Rubedo has a soundtrack! It consists of personal songs that I believe fits several scenes or certain characters mixed, of course, with the regular soundtrack of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood. **

**So, for the Hughes Family Theme: Koigokoro (Usagi Drop)**

**Elicia's Theme: Sentiment actuel 03: (Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic)**

**Gracia's Theme: Kouki Mama (Usagi Drop)**

**The end scene between the Elric Brothers and Maya: Happiness (Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood)**

**I'll put in Hughes' Theme later. Tell me if you like/dislike the music. I'd really love to know!**

**Thank you for giving this the time of day! I know the chapter is slow, but the chapter did say _beware of beautiful days._ Feedback and criticism is greatly appreciated!**


	2. Where Are You?

**Another chapter of this chapter going once, twice, sold!**

**Shout out to the reviewers of last chapter: GaaraDeservesToBeHappy, BloodPokemon101(been reading your Bleach/ FMA crossover fanfic. I'm getting into it!) BSSSonia, and NeverComeTrue**

**Guest Reviews: Open Wide (I wonder what that means) AiJay, and msmazzo**

**Thank you for the support. It's people like you that makes writing fanfic more fun and inspiring. Hit me up if you need anything from Lovely O here.**

**DISCLAIMER: Fullmetal Alchemist and Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood will never be mine. Hiromu Arakawa still remains the mastermind.**

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**Rubedo**

Chapter 2

_Where Are You?_

* * *

_**They've known each other for too long to only end up unknown to each other.**_

* * *

Everyone is at the table around the food.

The food.

The big armor won't stop looking at the sweet rolls.

The boy in the black won't stop looking at his touched spinach quiche.

Maya won't stop looking at her untouched spinach quiche.

The slow cling-clangs from the family of utensils are the ones talking and hearing and filling the dining room.

But half of the table are tight lipped and half are nonplussed. Even the little girl in her pink high chair can sense the mood.

"Daddy. Why is everyone so sad?" She asks.

The bearded man, as equable he could be, pats the little girl on the head. "Don't worry, sweetie. Everyone's just tired," He says this through a voice uncertain of himself.

"But, Big Sister…"

Maya snaps to her voice. It almost took all mounting effort to switch her attention to the child—Elicia—and not break at the horribly worried face she sees. And not only her: The bearded man—Maes and his wife—Gracia—and… Maya absolutely refuses to meet their eyes at all. The sadness there will sting worst.

Her brain is back at a rational pace, but her body is still caving under stress. She picks up the fork and breaks into the small piece of spinach quiche. Just eat, she thinks, just eat and keep away what's hoping to come out. Maya holds back the urge with great effort and settles instead on a slow insistent digging at the warm spinach quiche.

This isn't what she wanted Maes to come home to. Maya just wanted another day into night with the present not shaking or wavering, but the way he said her name, she was caught off-guard by how childish he sounded. And the armor was no different. She saw he was struggling, searching her face and discovering whatever he needed to find.

She takes a shallow bite of her quiche.

"How's the food, Edward?" Maes asks nicely. But, he's not looking at him. His pointed green eyes are steady on Maya. Yet, the boy doesn't notice. Maybe because his head is in his food.

He lurches, but nonetheless answers, "It's great. One of the best dish I've ever tasted."

"Don't be shy, eat all you want," Gracia says sweetly. Maya takes another shallow bite of the quiche. "Maya worked very hard on it."

Silence hits the table.

Maya quickly lifts her head, and at the worst time, their eyes meet. But, they don't clash. They look sickly, heavy gold staring at weak red. Maya opens her mouth though she knows she'll say nothing.

The boy soon averts his eyes. "Hard work paid off, then." A quick zip of relief at his comment is unexpected, but Maya takes it like a blow to her gut. Maybe he said it to avoid feeding the tension at the table.

But then Maes speaks, and Maya's feels like her heart is now in her throat. "Alphonse, how're you going to eat wearing that armor. C'mon, take it off, relax, have a sweet roll. You've been eyeing them ever since."

Both brothers freeze. Maes' right. He's been eyeing them since they were shockingly escorted to the dining table, confusingly guided to their chairs. While everyone was silently eating, his stare at the rolls intensified. For a split second, she can almost feel the brief, tense glance the armored-brother shared with his older brother.

"Um," says the armor nervously, "well, you see…"

The other brother quickly intervenes, "H-He's not allowed to! He has to wear it all the time! It's part of his alchemy training! Y'know how it is!"

Maya opens her mouth because sometimes, fighting instincts gets exhausting after a while, even if every fiber of her being told her no to.

"Yeah, Mr. Maes. I read in an alchemy book about specific methods alchemists use to study and train their alchemy! It just so happens Alphonse is doing the most arduous one. I commend him!"

The armor—Al, Alphonse—just has to look at her with such terrible, terrible gratitude.

Maes is perplexed for a quick second until he cracks a smile. "Wow, you boys are something else if you're that dedicated to alchemy."

"Trainin?" Elicia says in wonder. "Like a train! Trainin, choo choo!"

Everyone laughs at that and after, dinner is light as it can be. But the sunlight's not there yet. Maya wonders if there can ever be with her precious past now in her precious present.

* * *

Soon after dinner, the brothers settle in for the night. Before she finishes preparing Elicia for bed, the door is already shut.

The guest room granted to them is across Elicia's room. Maya stares at the door wistfully. She stares at the door long enough for Elicia to tug her hand and lead Maya to her room. She looks up at her, a sad face Maya can't bear to look at.

"You have tat face again, Big Sister…" Maya doesn't need to wonder too much to know what she's talking about. If a toddler can see how uncomfortable she is, then she's really failing at keeping her emotions in check. But how can she when there are two reminders of how much she's a…

"…scaredy-cat!"

"What?" Maya asks, puzzled.

"I'mma big girl now! I want to sleep with the lights off! I'm not gonna be a scaredy-cat!"

Maya blinks owlishly. She laughs and takes Elicia to her bed, tucks her in and resolutely says, "No."

"Big Sister, I can do it!"

"My ears aren't ready for your crying, Elicia."

"Lights off, lights off, lights off!" Maya sighs.

"Alright, big girl. Let's see if you can handle it."

She walks toward the lamp in the corner of the room illuminating a decent part of the room. She takes the knob and twists until the entire room is covered in black. One loud whimper and Maya instantly twists the knob. The light blinks on and she sees Elicia quivering in her bedsheets. With a deep frown, Maya walks to the bed and soothes her, pats her head to whisk all her fear away.

"See? You're only two. You can't just jump into things. If you know you're not ready yet, then wait," Maya tells her. Elicia fervently nods and quickly hugs her older sister.

"Good night Big Sister."

"Good night, Elicia." Maya tucks her in and once the little girl closes her eyes, Maya leaves the room now stilled by slumber.

But she doesn't leave the hallway.

Maya stares down the guest room door. She can sense that they're still awake. She knows one of them will soon be silent but not asleep. She knows a lot of things about them.

Her mind is blanking at each second she stares. She doesn't know if it's good or bad. She gently walks to the door and soon becomes at a weird distance: her nose is almost touching the wooden door.

She breathes. Then she hears noises, more like talking.

"Brother…" She hears the mild, metallic voice, "we didn't say anything to her. She was sitting right in front of us, and we didn't say anything."

A beat.

Then she hears the other voice, lower, but not mild. Snappy. Bitter. "She didn't say anything to us either. She looked like she was going to pass out just from looking at us."

"…What now? We finally found her, but…"

"Don't you see it Al, she doesn't want to be found. We were breaking our necks searching, even staying in dead-end towns to see if we could find her, and what do we see: her getting all cozy with another family like she...I can't handle this, not right now—I'm gonna sleep."

"Goodnight, Brother."

"…Goodnight, Al."

Maya closes the distance between herself and the door. Now, her whole face leaning on the door, breathing heavily while trying very hard to be silent. Their names echo in her head, in her heart, but stay shut in her mouth.

_Ed, Al…_

Maya rubs her cheeks. She doesn't remember moving. She doesn't remember trudging down the stairs into the kitchen, digging through the cabinets for the sweet rolls and grabbing one and preparing a glass of milk. She zones in once she's planted on the couch, has the sweet roll stuffed in her mouth and the light from the small living room lamp glazing over her face. She takes a long bite, sleep going lower and lower on her list of wants.

Did they hear her breathing, hear their names, she wonders. The door is so flimsy, her thoughts can travel through that door.

Maya gulps. "I'm such a coward." Maybe she should find comfort in that; she has for so many years. To hear her name come from their mouths in loathing, it will eternally break her. She can't deal with that pain again. Not again.

"Having a late-night snack, I see."

Maya lazily turns her head and sees Maes in his blue pajamas, a smile aimed towards her. She wants to return the smile, but it won't come, not even a slight chance in the corners of her mouth. He sits next to her and watches her munch the sweet roll.

"Those boys," he starts, "you know them."

Maya gulps. "…Yeah."

Maes reclines into the couch. "Those boys are smart. The younger one, quite extensive in his knowledge of alchemy. The older one, youngest state alchemist in existence. Nothing to really scoff at."

"You're right," Maya says softly.

"Do you know what they call state alchemists in the military?"

"The dogs of the military," She responds almost immediately.

Maes isn't surprised that she knows the answer rather well. Just puts a hand on her head and continues his talk, "Not exactly a popular bunch."

She closes her eyes at his touch, lets it pull her back into the comforting illusion of a consistent world. "Yeah."

"It must be pretty hard, enduring that at such a young age." Maya's eyes tighten at that.

"It must also be pretty hard having someone important to you ignore you like you're nothing." Maya turns to Maes, eyes now open and attentive.

"You still care for those boys. Your reactions wouldn't be so drastic if you didn't."

She bites into her sweet roll, slow and somehow regretful. Maya then casts her eyes to the floor only seen by the calm glow of the lamp. "I care. I care for them so much it hurts. It hurts, it hurts…it hurts." A shaky sigh ends her words.

She's not crying. No, she doesn't deserve to. Both of them are her regrets, her sorrow, her guilt, her cowardice, her depression, and she cares for them so much.

Maes watches her intensely before focusing on somewhere else. "Maybe you've grown out of each other." Maya turns to him, a clear frown on her face.

"Well, that's how I felt when my friend and I separated after we returned from war. But, we both stayed in the military, him in East City and me in Central and boy is it crazy handling all that paperwork in the division I'm in and no one's able or even willing to help…!"

"Are you going somewhere with this, Mr. Maes?" Maya asks dryly.

Maes relaxes, chuckles, and continues, "I could barely talk to the guy with the amount of work I had or have. But then I realized; friends aren't inseparable. Friends are separated knowing nothing will change."

Maya's eyes glint from the shine of the lamp.

"They care about you as much as you do them. They might not say it because that's how men are. Actions are better than words to them. But, something does have to be said here. How long has it been?" Maes asks though it seems he already has the answer.

Maya gives a tired sigh. "Four years."

"And they'll only be staying for one night." Maes stares at her knowingly.

Maya clutches her glass of milk tightly. She knows, deep within every part of her, she's banking on them staying. It'll be shocking if they just left her after so many years.

She'd understand if they did.

* * *

They leave before she wakes up.

The apartment is full of tantalizing morning smells and it leads her down the stairs to the living room. Gracia is already sipping on some tea, and Elicia is drinking orange juice, a satisfied grin on her lips. Maes isn't there, expectantly, but the two alchemists aren't. Her stomach is already stirring some unpleasant feelings, disturbing the peace she had a mere second ago.

Elicia is the first to spot her. "Yay! Big Sister wake up!"

Gracia turns her head. "Good morning, Maya. Breakfast is on the table in the dining room. The kettle is hot and ready for tea, if you'd like some." Maya feels Gracia's implying that she needs it from her slightly worried expression. She doesn't feel so good so her appearance can be an indicator to that.

"Ok."

Pancakes, homemade blackberry syrup, eggs, bacon, and sweet rolls. She groggily gathers food on her plate. She gets a teacup from one of the cabinets. For around five months she's been here, many midnight expeditions imprinted a map in her brain of the whole kitchen—equitably the whole apartment complex.

"The boys left with Maes early this morning." Maya looks to Gracia who's smiling, trying to use all the comfort for Maya in that one action alone. Maybe could've sufficed if her vision wasn't hazed in disjointed sleep and feelings hard to bear.

Of course, they'd leave. It wouldn't be farfetched if she presumes they're collaborating with Maes for this Isaac case. The guy's becoming a bigger threat with each passing day. It makes sense they'd need all the seasoned state alchemists within the vicinity. And where one goes, the other must follow.

Gracia moves from her spot to the kitchen and takes the teacup. "Sit, eat. I'll make the tea for you," she offers.

After a bit of honey and music from a stirring spoon, Gracia sets the tea in front of Maya and sits parallel from her. Maya notices Gracia watching her awhile, but she's not bothered or uncomfortable by it.

However, it comes to a drastic peak once Gracia says, "Were those the two boys you were talking about? The one who likes sweet rolls and the brother?"

Maya pauses, but nevertheless answers, "Yup. That's them."

"The way you talked about them, it seems you all were really close."

"Were..." She says stiffly.

The rest of breakfast continues in an uneventful manner.

Gracia reserves Maes' den to make Elicia's birthday decorations so Maya is tasked to distract the little girl until lunchtime. Her target eventually becomes herself since several times Elicia had to snap her back to reality by whining her name a couple of times. But distractions were welcomed at her sister's expense. Without those distractions a block in her mind, those two boys will rise to the surface.

But, will they come back?

Will they come back?

_Will they come back?_

She wonders.

* * *

She has no right to wonder, but she does because they're still a part of her and could be a part if she keeps wondering.

No more distractions. Just wonder

* * *

AppRoAch. No, nO, caN'T Be sUdDen. BuT sIlencE is woRst, A leSSon learNt. SOOn isn'T a wORd, Not foR tHem. She doEsN't KNow whiCh wAy wiLL soon go?

* * *

_It's taking too long, no I don't want to play, leave me be. Elicia sorry, I can't be here right now. Mind in many places, places have both of them all time. All the time. Tired. Too much thinking, thoughts hurt chest hurts, all of it hurts._

* * *

_I'm sorry, Elicia._

_I'm sorry Ed, Al._

* * *

Maes hasn't come home yet. The sun is past its apex. It's a lonesome sign; there's a possibility they'll come back, but a possibility Maes sees them off before he returns.

Gracia had asked her to hide some birthday gifts in a secure location, anywhere Elicia can't easily hunt for: any place higher than three feet. It was a quick task to complete, she finished in about five minutes. The little girl is taking a late catnap in her room, which gives Maya time to return to the book she started days ago. Maes was able to borrow a book from the Second Branch of the National Central Library, one out of the three branches accessible to only State Alchemists and military members of adequate ranks. He was able to coax one of the officials to allow him to borrow it for "analytical reasons for future psycho alchemists" and the sap bought it.

He did pick up any random book having a mindset of anything that touches on alchemy would be worth a read. However, what he chose was valuable: The Alchemical Writings of Paracelsus. Maya can say with utmost honesty she really likes this book about the "Alchemical Genius" or the "Father of Alchemy" and other epithets the man whom they call Paracelsus has garnered. He apparently traveled through several countries -Xing, Aerugo, Creta- to spread the knowledge of alchemy, accepted or not, before settling down in a growing Amestris, applying his knowledge there too. Apparently, he had no name, so they stuck him with the name Aerugonians called him: Paracelsus due to his haughty behavior.

While the book is dissertations and interpretations, most of the book is ascribed to Paracelsus' teachings that are either cryptic and hard to decipher or lost without one page to suffice. But, she is nearing the midpoint, so she'll see what more the book can offer.

"The man who not only developed alchemy but brought chemistry to alchemy and medicine as well. I wouldn't knock him down for his pride," Maya whispers absently, ready to dig into another page.

She hasn't a clue why she hadn't read more alchemy history books back in the day. A polite, old friend had introduced her to historic alchemical texts, but since he left she hasn't put any time towards it.

Younger, her attention was more appointed to learning the foundations instead of the history: equations, compositions, circle bases, polygon functions, arrays, ingredients—

Maya stops her tracks, refusing to build on the thought any longer. Her troubled thoughts have been making her physically ill.

She makes a move to bookmark her page, but she doesn't have to. A guttural rumble coming from the ins and outs of the apartment building cuts her reading time. Frantic, she jumps to her feet and whips her head back and forth, target the source of the deep belly growl the building emits.

Right behind the rumble comes a grinding ripple or more of a massive tear, loud, screechy, painful. She feels a vast breeze split her bangs apart and gasps because the windows weren't open when she came in and she hadn't moved to the windows to lift them open.

The intruding breeze is cool but turns colder as an ice wall sails through half of the room, severing the furnish, sawing the floor, breaking through the walls as if their durability is strong as wet paper. It's a tall ice wall; Maya couldn't see the top. It's doing way more damage, most likely cutting the entire building straight in half, it must be.

Maya has no time to think of herself. She thinks immediately of Gracia and Elicia and had never been more terrified of their absence.

Elicia's taking a nap. "MOMMY!"

"Damn IT!" Elicia's name is a wild beat in Maya's mind. However, unlike the comfortable and familiar rhythm of every day, her name screams sirens as she charges and bangs the ice wall. She makes some good size holes, but it's useless, the wall won't give and Maya's gnawing frustration is becoming more present.

The urgency is tearing her brain apart, but she puzzles it back together. She needs a functional brain to think and process and do.

Maya quickly looks all around the room and instantly stops at the ceiling. She has a plan, maybe unstable, but it's the best plan for danger like this. Yet, in the havoc, she calls to her mind.

When was the last time she'd did something like this?

Five months, right, when the Hughes took her in, and she gave in, stowed and tucked away fifteen years of life before them.

Edward and Alphonse's visit made her revisit herself.

She breaths in and out, some sort of rushed meditation, before leaping and punching a giant hole straight through the ceiling. Before gravity hits, she grabs on to jutting secure planks of wood and pulls herself up to someone else's ruined apartment. A vacant living room, inhabitants gone. They definitely fled from the room. Yet, that didn't stop the cries from the residents beyond the walls of the building through the wall of ice.

Those cries, she needs Gracia and Elicia to be a part of them, just to know they're still alive to make them.

Maya continues, floors after floors, knuckles red and raw. She hasn't done this in a while. The pain feels good, feels real, lashing her to and fro, from then and now.

It isn't long for her to reach the top of the glacier wall. The wall has stopped and shockingly the entire building isn't severed. The wall only came in contact with the middle and lower levels, the upper is relatively unscathed though full of affected apartments and shocked people. She can still hear people's frightened cries. She attempts to isolate herself from it.

Separate, Maya tells herself, jumping over the slim icy roof to the other half of the building. Finding Gracia and Elicia is the top priority. She scrubs ceiling dust off her forehead, wipes it from her eyes, though she knows it's not necessarily the dust affecting her.

She coughs. "I went through," she coughs again, "four ceilings." Four up, four down. No, five down because Gracia is in Maes's den. It'll be easier to go down, gravity will help her this time. She takes one more cough to block any more dust from grabbing her lungs.

'Tired' becomes a perpetual word in her mind amongst the stomping she does to crack the floor beneath her. On the fifth try, she falls through unprepared. The landing strikes her body hot, but a second does not pass where she stays on the floor. Maya immediately gains her feet and stomps again.

Things are so wrong. Ever since they came, things have gotten so wrong. In the space of just a day, Maya has felt nothing but stress, emotions that wouldn't leave her the fuck alone and two people always present in the corner of her eyes. This time, they're not fading and she's utterly lost. But the thing is, she wants them here, near. She wants them to not leave despite her leaving them all those years ago.

They must hate her and she deserves it after all. The accepting thought doesn't make it any less terrifying.

She wants to see them. She doesn't want to see them.

"HELL!" The curse comes out, this time heavy, cracked and wrecked beyond repair. She shuts her eyes completely and stops stomping. Her head hurts really bad she doesn't even understand the pain. It just hurts, and she wants it to stop.

_"I didn't know you were such a fool."_

It was cool that day when she heard those words. Cool, just like this one.

Her eyes flash open and she finds the right reality. What has she been doing?

This entire time she had a foot shot through a ceiling, her painful thoughts covering her eyes until she forgot her surroundings. Maya rubs her cheeks until most of the ceiling dust replaces her face like makeup. She has to cool her stress levels. Temperamental and shameless. A child acts like this, not her.

She inhales, exhales, then puts her mind to work and, by design, it automatically thinks of…

**Alchemy. **

She was reading a book about it earlier, how could she not have thought of it? She was too busy stressing and had completely forgotten about alchemy.

When was the last time she clapped her hands and let her instincts fly?

It was when she realized alchemy was too close to the past and not near the present. She couldn't use it as much in the past either. Yet, it was impossible for alchemy to stop existing to her, not when each day she yearned to create transmutation circles out of leisure. Books were there, but it wasn't the same.

Now, there are no more words, just action again. It feels so liberating to think of transmutation circles and able to finally perform it after so long.

Maya pulls her foot out of the hole she made and examines the floor. Wood.

"I-It's made of wood, the floor…wood, wood, wood, yes."

_Wood is composed of cellulose. Cellulose is a polysaccharide of sugars. Sugars are composed of carbon, **oxygen, hydrogen**…_

Maya almost wants to laugh. Water from wood? Mind-numbing but yet so simple. If she can't do anything to the ice wall, she can definitely transmute the floor. She punched her way through four stories, she can definitely clap her way through another four stories. All she needs to do is stick the landings.

"If I'm going to do this…" She runs schematics, assembling it together in hurried thought.

_The outer circle, of course, a smaller circle to direct the process with more precision- I don't want the whole floor to turn into water- Triangle for deconstruction, let it stem out the inner circle, another triangle…_

Once she has the full diagram in her mind, Maya readies herself.

_"You mustn't use that alchemy do you understand me?!"_

Maya freezes along with her conviction. _"Don't show it to anyone!"_

Yes, it was a breezy day when she said that. When's the last she heard her voice?

Maya doesn't try to remember, not under these circumstances. She lets out a faint laugh. "It's too late now, Mom."

Water already appears on her cheeks before she executes it, and once she claps her hand and slams it on the floor, she feels nothing but water.

It's like jumping in a cold Octoberish lake. She has to keep her palms open, brain still studying and steadying the circle. If she loses concentration, the circle will vanish, and she'll be landing on wood again.

**Eleven.**

**Ten.**

**Nine.**

The ceiling spits her out like a sunflower seed. She crumbles to the floor in a wet, pallid mess, the water swelling the wood below her right on contact. Maya surmises that most of the foundation in this building was built with wood since she was able to go up and down rooms easily, or at least she hopes so.

Going up and down floors and ceilings with bare fists and feet isn't normal, but it's been like this ever since she was a child, her being uncannily strong.

Maya shakes her thoughts away and does a mad search for Elicia. "Elicia!"

Trembling cries makes her heartbreak once the little girl dashes to her and hugs her. Elicia latches on to her wet clothes, confused and scared and teary-eyed.

"B-Big S-S sister." She clings tighter. "I'm s-s-scared, wher-re er you?"

"I'm sorry, Elicia." Maya breathes harshly, holds her like treasure. "I'm here, I'm here…" Maya parts from the hug. "We're going to get out of here."

Elicia sniffles then nods fiercely. "Where's mommy?"

"We're about to get her." Maya kneels. She already has the transmutation circle alive and well in her head. "Climb on my back and don't let go."

Elicia quickly does as she's told and hops onto Maya's soaked back. "Why are you wet, Big Sister?"

"You'll see in a second." Maybe it isn't the right time to show humor, but anything to calm Elicia's nerves.

She claps her hand and slams it on the floor. They go down like a waterfall.

**Nine.**

Maya lands steadily this time, crouched and prepared. Elicia is still trembling, but not as much as before. It's most likely the sudden splash of water she perceives came out of nowhere, in which she asks, "Big Sis! How did you do tat? Tat was so cool!" Explaining the logistics of alchemy to a two-year-old isn't best at the moment. Elicia jumps off her back

"Elicia! Maya!"

"Mommy!" Elicia cries.

Nothing is important once she hears Gracia. The woman runs, a frightened mess, but not for her, but for them. She shows it in desperate hugs, first hoisting Elicia up to hug her, then Maya. It pulls Maya away from the edge, to actually relax and rest from everything. Gracia pulls back with Elicia still in her arms.

"This is sudden, isn't it?" Maya says in a huff.

"I will say yes. It's not everyday an ice wall appears and destroys an apartment building," Gracia replies, obviously humoring her. Maya gives a chuckle, but is soon reminded of the ice wall and the approaching doom if they don't get out of here.

"Why are the both of you wet?" Gracia asks, observing their clothes.

Elicia volunteers to explain. "Big Sister do this thingy where she claps her hand and do some magic and the floor turned into water and went splash!" A very rough explanation, but entirely true.

"Turned the floor into water? How is that…" Gracia furrows her brows. "Maya, can you do alchemy?"

Maya suddenly feels ashamed, like she has been deceitful with everything and truthful with nothing. It's not the case, she knows it, yet it won't go away.

"Yes."

Gracia is quiet and Elicia is too, but mostly off her mother's actions. By the latest turn of events, there isn't enough time to stay quiet for too long. Gracia comes back into the fold, a small transition from shock to sheepish.

"I can't believe I didn't connect the dots sooner. You read a lot of alchemy books, why wouldn't you know a thing or two." She cracks a smile.

With that, Maya's mouth slowly starts to loosen."Ms. Gracia, I've—"

A shake on par with a mild earthquake has the building creak in many different sounds. It forces everyone back into the situation at hand: Elicia's whimpers, Gracia's gasps, Maya's cusses. Maya immediately kneels to ready herself for the transmutation.

"We have eight floors to go until we reach the first level," Maya quickly informs. Gracia has nothing to say, just fluent actions as if she's used to being in dire situations. Gracia firmly hooks one arm around Maya's neck and another arm carrying Elicia with absolutely no room between them.

"Ms. Gracia," Maya says softly into the humidity. Motherly instinct or self awareness, Gracia is a good woman for a crisis.

Maya goes back to the floor underneath her. She must be precise, more focus, maintain the circle in her mind. She's passing through more floors and she has two precious people she doesn't want to lose on her.

She closes her eyes and sees not darkness, but a house, an apple tree, gold hair, two boys smiling at her in all wonderfulness.

A shaky sigh, a clap, a slam, sparks, water, then down, down, down…

**Eight.**

**Seven.**

**Six.**

**Five.**

**Four.**

**Three.**

**Two.**

**One.**

Maya makes sure Gracia and Elicia doesn't feel the brunt of the fall as they arrive on the last floor, looking like a wet pile of laundry. A million of floors it felt like going down, some apartment being a two story flat similar to the Hughes.

"Ms. Gracia," Maya starts.

"We're fine," Gracia insists, yet her and Elicia are breathing quickly.

"Mommy, I'm cold," Elicia says around a cough.

Gracia sets Elicia down and peels her sweater off. She wraps Elicia and picks her up and secures her in her arms as if she'd fly away. "It's wet, but this should do."

They finally reach the first floor in a random apartment. This place is also vacant. Some furniture are in disarray and the elm wood rimmed windows are open wide, evidence that the habitants in this apartment sought their escape through the windows.

"There." Maya points to the windows. The chilly breeze doesn't help the swathe Elicia, neither Maya and Gracia, but they persevere. Step by step they go thoughtfully: Gracia gives Elicia to Maya and climbs out the window. Maya hands Elicia to Gracia through the window then climbs out herself.

They're finally outside. Maya finally sees the origin of the ice wall.

A platoon of Amestrian militia stand put, seemingly there to confront the gigantic ice wall sectioning parts of Central. The ice wall is close to splitting the building in two, and how it's positioned, the ice wall is more beneficial to the building then a detriment. If they remove it, the building will collapse within itself and crumble. There'll be more calamity.

Of course, the ice wall is created from some alchemical source, but Maya can't believe it's this strong. The sky is like soup, boiling and stirring, streaked with red light that could only be the work of alchemy.

"What is happening right now?" Maya whispers.

While some soldiers are evacuating the area, another section has fire arms and canons to destroy the indomitable ice wall. **BOOM, BOOM BOOM, BOOM,** is in their ears and Maya has heard these sounds before. These sounds of shots and explosions are familiar to her. However, familiarity and immunity are mutually exclusive.

Apart from everything else, Maya and Gracia have yet to figure out where to go. The military has their hands full, luckily for Maya. However, because of this, Maes is a deadline for them.

"It has to be that psycho state alchemist guy. What is he planning to do with so many transmutation circles? " Maya speaks to no one, eyeing the red crackles in the sky intently. She abruptly looks away. It's not for her to handle. She has to make sure Gracia and Elicia are safe and sound. They pass the side of the apartment building where the stairs peter out to the streets. People are running without end, forgoing any type of help from the Amestrian soldiers, a given since the military appears to have no control of the situation.

"The one safe place I know is at Stefan's," Gracia says urgently.

"Mr. Becker's place," Maya says in realization. "A long walk, but safe."

"Quickly." Gracia rests a hand on Maya's shoulder and hurries her along.

They don't go far.

"Look, some people are out!" A soldier. A gangly young soldier with accuracy and vision of a rifle. He spots them, and it appears that he discovered them back when they climbed out the window. He alerts a couple more soldiers. The soldiers nod and start to make their way over to them. Maya's lips turn dry. Gracia has a devastated face, unbeknownst to Elicia who watches the men come near and speaks, "Mommy, the peple in blue is coming. They loo like Daddy."

"I know, sweetie." Maya feels Gracia's hand squeeze her shoulder. Maya tilts her head down and down with her all the red that makes her face.

The soldiers approach them and, with dutiful arms out, one of them asks, "Did you come from the Teurste apartments?" Gracia purses her lips but gives a gracious nod. She starts to explain what happened inside the building, the amount of damage the ice wall caused, and the panic throughout the building. Maya edges away, head still down. She sucks in her already dry lips.

She needs to get away now.

"It's good that more were able to get out," One soldier says. Then they fall into militant talk and jargon. After a long line of talking, the young soldier who spotted them first noticed.

"Miss, why are you and your children wet?"

Gracia can't give an answer, not in the space of a second. But after a cursory glance at Maya with her hair matted and her eyes covered, she explains, "The ice wall—"

"Ma'am, the ice couldn't have wet your clothes to this degree," Another soldier adds, squinting his face as he observes them. "Are these your children?"

"Yes." Gracia starts to glare at them. "My children are cold. If you're not going to assist me, then I'll leave."

"Ma'am, you have yet to answer our question. Why are you and your children wet? How can we help you if you shirk our question?" The soldier, deep grooves for eyes and a chalkboard beard, looks at Maya. "Is your daughter alright? She looks ill."

Maya freezes.

"Like I said, my children are cold," Gracia stresses.

Maya has no answer for anything. She stays silent and closes her eyes for good measure, plays the role of a drenched, scared child wanting to move on and be with Mommy.

She opens one eye and peeks at Gracia. Gracia's hair grows long and turns a black. Before the image can settle, before the heartbreak can begin, she closes her eye again. After another round of seconds, Gracia finally persuades the soldiers to leave them be.

"My apologies, Ma'am. Please get to safety." They all send their attention somewhere else, to the wall, to the frantic citizens, to the rampaging alchemy dominating the sky, anywhere but them. Finally, they can leave.

"Let's go."

After perhaps three steps, a rumble makes the ground flimsy. Maya can feel it, a force slithering under the neat ground of Amestris. It proves her right once she sees more ice walls emerge from different roads and places. The arrival from it is enough to rock most of the citizens to their knees or worse, head. Gracia's hand slips from Maya's shoulder, feet noticeably unstable.

"Ms. Gracia, Elicia!" Maya lunges just in time to catch their fall. But another rumble pushes them to their knees. They tumble together, but Maya makes sure she has a firm grip on them. Maya puts Gracia to sit, Elicia still cradled in her arms. All Maya can do is watch and question the slow drop of reality. The ice walls converging, the panic, Gracia and Elicia, Ed and Al.

But, there are no answers. There's no one to dream it for her. Just changes.

"Ishvalan…"

Maya lifts her head. Blue eyes of a blue soldier.

Just changes.

* * *

**Author Notes: In the FMA mood and listening to the fan soundtrack I made for this ain't helping.**

**So Maya is a little...unstable and the sudden situation she's in is making it worse. BUT, this chapter raises more questions about Maya's past with the Elrics. Not only that, but her own past. Who was her family before? Why and how is she able to use alchemy without transmutation circles? Who's the person who told her not to use that alchemy? Why is she physically strong? All of this will be explained in future chapters, but these are questions you might wanna keep in mind.**

**Tell me: Have you ever ran away from a problem, know you deserve the consequences, but are still scared of it?**

**Rubedo soundtrack**

**Rubedo's Main Theme: _Red Garden OST Main Theme: Sou de Aru to Negau Kara_**

**P.S.: Vote in the poll on my page. Which item is more romantic: Bracelet or Hairpin. It's important!**

**Thanks for reading! Drop a lovely review and have a lovely day!**


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